


Some Talks Must Be Had

by Moonrose91



Series: Three Hundred Years of Being Forgotten (Mostly) [18]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Hide the Truth or Speak It?, Needed Talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything in life is easy or kind.</p><p>If it were, it would not be life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Talks Must Be Had

**Author's Note:**

> This deals with themes that are parallel to having a child with a possibly fatal disease, which is the only way I can think of to describe it. There will be angst, and emotional upheaval. If you do not feel you can handle it, please don't read this.

Sandy frets over Jack shortly after the boy practically drops onto the golden cloud. “M’kay Sandman,” Jack mumbles out, but Sandy frets more at the slurred words, running a hand through Jack’s hair before pulling back with a silent cry of pain, ice crystals forming on Sandy’s hand.

Jack is turning twelve and he’s freezing out.

Sandy frets and carefully sprinkles a liberal dose of dream sand over Jack, giving the boy dreams of dolphins and snowball fights. Sandy doesn’t look too closely at Jack’s dreams as he carefully tucks Jack securely into his cloud before he focuses on fixing his hand.

Immortal he may be, that does not mean he is completely unreachable from the world’s effects.

Any of the Guardians could have irreparable damage done to them.

Any spirits could for that matter, as well.

Even Pitch.

Not that Sandy ever considered that, of course, and he winced as he flexed his hand before he looked up at the moon.

_I **am** looking, Sanderson._

Manny rarely spoke to Sandy, and he only did when he had no other choice.

He preferred that Sandy and the other Guardians learn things on their own, without his influence.

Sandy felt this was a rather stupid choice on Manny’s part, but nothing Sandy did could ever convince him otherwise and so Sandy left Manny to his own devices, only occasionally bringing up when keeping silent had been for the worst when Sandy felt Manny needed the reminder.

Not that Sandy’s words, soft though they were, were ever heeded.

Most likely because the pros outweighed the cons.

Sandy sighed and looked over at the boy, wincing when he saw the ice that clung to the golden dream sand.

What was he going to do?

Twelve years was an awfully long time to be shepherding winter alone.

Sandy ran his hand through Jack’s hair carefully, smiling when he didn’t get more ice crystals attached to his skin and he looked at the boy in concern.

Jack, somehow, was thinner. He was also more tired and drawn out.

Sandy frowned a bit as he continued to run his hand through Jack’s hair.

It was almost like Jack was melting and freezing at the same time, a too thin layer of ice over a lake that still had water slipping through and up from under the ice. He continued to run his hand through Jack’s hair and then he focused on his dreams, spinning golden life, and planting thoughts of joy. He spun dreams of snowball fights and laughter.

He spun and wove, the golden sand alighting the night as if day was trying to return to the world, but Sandy just continued to spin, drifting on as he went from settlement to settlement, child to child, having the sand dance through the air and curl around any who needed it most.

He focused on what was needed, on his duty as a Guardian, and, once reassured that every child was secure in their dreams, safely kept from Pitch’s reach (but only his overstretching reach; some nightmares could not be prevented, nor should they, but that was an entirely different conversation to have on another night), he focused on Jack.

Jack who slept peacefully on.

Jack, who was dreaming of having a snowball fight with Pitch.

Sandy stared at the dream for a while longer, processing what he was seeing, before he smiled and tweaked it slightly so that Pitch wasn’t as easily recognizable as before.

While he rarely did something like that, he was about to go visit Mother Nature, with Jack.

And he wasn’t about to let her see an image of Pitch in Jack’s dreams.

Sandy smiled and gently ruffled Jack’s hair before he focused on taking them to Mother Nature.

Winter was gripping the Southern Hemisphere; she would be near the Tooth Palace this time of year then.

And with that, Sandy took off.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Sandy, but there is nothing I can do,” Mother Nature stated and Sandy looked between Jack and Mother Nature, a pained expression on his face.

She sighed softly, even as she ran a hand, without thinking about it, through his hair. “I am looking. Manny is looking. And I can’t just create someone from the snow, it doesn’t work that way, not for the first helper. And Jack has to create those, of frost and ice and snow. _If_ he can. He has to discover it on his own and it might take a few centuries before he can make them permanent, let alone a shape at all. The first helper has to be another like him; which means that someone who fits the requirements must _die_ in Winter. We cannot take a living person and turn them into a winter sprite. It does not work that way, but I sometimes wish it could,” Mother Nature answered and Sandy deflated before he waved his hand helplessly at Jack, who slept on.

“I know. But he’s doing much better than any other Spirit of Winter. He even has the North Wind answering his calls, and the North Wind answers to _no one_ ,” Mother Nature stated and she removed her hand from Jack’s hair as she walked away, the white skirt billowing, the autumn leaves dancing and Sandy gave a soundless sigh.

“We are looking, Sandy. But we can only hope at this point. Maybe you should borrow one of the rabbit’s eggs. They contain some. Give it to Jack, or have Jack find it. It will cheer him up and it would give him some hope to hold onto, though he seems to be pretty good at growing it by himself,” Mother Nature stated, her voice taking the sheen of ice.

Sandy gave her a look and she sighed, covering her face. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…we need _everyone_. Both of the Fours, to keep the world in balance. If we don’t….” she began and Sandy nodded in understanding.

Centuries ago, when this world was still new, Sandy had been here.

So had Pitch, and Manny and Mother Nature.

It had been them and the Winds and the _others._

In comparison, Pitch was a fluffy pink jaguar kitten.

It was the first, and last, time Sandy and Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, had fought together on the same side.

The others didn’t know, however. Thousands, millennia, old, it didn’t matter. They did not know why the balance was so necessary.

And losing another Winter Spirit, this close to the last, would be disastrous.

Sandy waved a hand to Jack and made images of Mother Nature talking to Jack.

“No, I haven’t spoken with him about the previous Spirits of Winter,” Mother Nature stated.

Sandy just stared at her before covering his face and shaking his head. “I know! I need to talk to him,” Mother Nature admitted.

Sandy made a strong pointing motion to the ground.

“Now?”

Sandy showed Jack waking up and Mother Nature sighed.

“You’re right. I have left him in the dark for too long,” Mother Nature murmured and Sandy nodded in agreement.

“Just…how do you tell a child they might die? That…that,” she began before she covered her face and began to cry.

Sandy immediately floated over and pat her shoulder.

She did not need words to know what he was saying.

_Is it not crueler to keep the truth from him?_

* * *

Jack awoke with a groan and shook his head slightly. “Jack?” a soft voice called and it took Jack a few more blinks before he managed to place the soft voice and he blinked up at Mother Nature.

He was cuddled up in a snow bank at the meeting place and Mother Nature was sitting next to him. “Mother Nature?” he mumbled, but she gently shushed him, easing him back down when he tried to sit up. “You need sleep, Jack. And you can sleep within here. You’re subconsciously shepherding Winter and it is going rather nicely. No…I need to talk to you,” she explained, her voice soothing and calming.

For some reason, that set Jack on edge.

He settled however, because he still felt exhausted and she ran a comforting hand over his hair, though he still tensed slightly.

He wasn’t used to people besides Sandman touching him.

“Jack, I need to explain something about the previous Spirits of Winter,” Mother Nature explained and Jack looked up at her in confusion, the cold of the snow soaking into his very bones.

* * *

Jack lay in shock within the snow.

He could turn into snow and frost.

Mother Nature didn’t think it could happen, but it could.

Sandman seemed to be worried, more worried than usual anyway and Jack stared at the staff in his hand.

He stared at it and then, slowly, he began to sit up. Sandman floated over, concern painted on his face and Jack smiled. “If I am going to die, I don’t want my last moments in this world for me to be sad. I think I am going to go have fun,” Jack answered and Sandman huffed silently, but he was smiling.

Despite the fact that Jack had to lean completely on his staff to stay on his feet, he felt better than he had in days.

Now…where was the nearest village in need of winter cheer?


End file.
